A House of Cards
by BebopSamurai
Summary: A house of cards is always a marvel to observe, an example of perfect balance...but the slightest shift in the wind can send everything tumbling down. AU. YoruichixKisuke, YoruichixSoi Fon
1. Thursday

The House of Cards 

Series disclaimer: I don't own anything I write about.

A/N: This is a rather drastic A/U, with some of the characters changed greatly. This is not intended to be entirely accurate to the characters in Kubo Tite's Bleach, but rather a piece in which the core of the character is more or less intact. Moreover, I cannot guarantee that the intended ending will be a happy one (or rather, that everyone will be happy with it), and due to the sake of my disinclination to reveal the plot this series is rated 'M' for safety. Also, this is not in ANY way related to "The Cat and The Bee."

* * *

Chapter 1: Thursday

The dark haired woman slid her hand into the new stack of mail, flipping through the endless bunches of catalogues and junk mail to find a small pamphlet. She was careful to pull it out, taking a quick glance around to make sure she was alone before opening it and looking at the information, careful to memorize the Admissions Office telephone number. In the middle of her memorization there a tug on the hem of her kimono, making her jump out of instinct more than anything else, instictively driving her to put the paper back where she'd found it. But to her relief upon turning around it was only her little boy, bright red hair still jutting outward at odd angles no matter how often she combed it.

"Mommy, what are you doing?"

"...Oh, nothing honey," Yoruichi responded quickly, smiling as brightly as she could to throw the seven-year-old off her trail. "I was just getting ready to make something for Ururu when she gets back from school. Wanna help?"

"Okay!" the boy answered quickly, smiling brightly at the prospect of a snack. "Can I have some too?"

"Of course. And I'll make you a nice glass of milk with it, too!" the dark-skinned woman answered cheerfully, pulling a few loose strands of hair back into the ponytail that hung down to her shoulders.

"Can I have a Coke instead?"

"You KNOW better than that in the afternoon, Jinta," his mother answered sternly. To her satisfaction the boy gave a disappointed-sounding grumble before clambering atop a nearby stool to the counter, watching intently as she set down a small jar of peanut butter, a container of jelly and a small loaf of bread.

"Can I do the peanut butter?"

His mother only smiled as she slid a plate and the container with a spoon in his direction, urging him to be careful with how much he put on.

* * *

"Mom? Mom, I'm back!"

"we're in the kitchen, pumpkin! How was school?" Yoruichi called from the other room, just beyond sight. Ururu gave a slight grunt as she pulled her shoes off, using the nearby wall as a support.

"It was okay... a lotta homework."

"How was your club? Getting along with the others?"

"It's fun-- today I struck out THREE people!"

"Well then, it sounds like you're hungry! Jinta and I made your favorite!" As Ururu entered the kitchen with a smile and carefully bit into one of the rather sloppy peanut-butter sandwiches, her mother glanced over the head of almost-lavender pigtails to locate the remaining member of the family.

"Where's your father? He said he'd be able to pick you up today." The big-eyed girl looked almost downcast for a moment at the mention of the Urahara family patriarch, but it disappeared automatically as she answered.

"I dunno. Yuzu's dad picked me up-- said that he was doing Dad a favor." Yoruichi's smile didn't waver at what she now knew was going on; she'd gotten more than used to her husband's erratic work hours at the hospital. After all, as her mother liked to remind her, a wealthy doctor does have a lifestyle to maintain.

"Mom?" Jinta called as he tugged urgently of the sleeve of Yoruichi's robe, "...are you okay?"

"Of course, honey," Yoruichi answered with a smile, effectively dismissing the innocent observation. "Why don't you go play a game with your sister before she needs to get started on her homework? I need to get dinner ready."

* * *

Kisuke sighed as he shut the door unceremoniously behind him, slipping his shoes off even as he fought to escape the confines of his waist-length leather jacket. After he hung the coat on the nearby rack the blonde proceeded through to the next room, smiling as he caught sight of a plate filled with rice and chicken with teriyaki vegetables. He winced as he touched the still-hot dish, but quickly overcame the mild discomfort as he grabbed a waiting pair of chopsticks and scooped a bit of the meal up into his mouth.

"You know me too well," Kisuke chuckled to the empty room as he formally sat down before the low table to eat, savoring his favorite meal as much as his grumbling stomach would allow. The florescent orange light of a nearby streetlamp filtered into the room by means of a pair of half-shut blinds, providing his only illumination in the near pitch-black darkness. Once he was done, the doctor set his dirty dish in the sink, then grabbed the stack of new mail on his way to the bedroom, peeking in on his already sound-asleep children as he walked past their cracked-open doors.

* * *

"Welcome home," Yoruichi said sweetly as Kisuke walked in, as if she'd been waiting for him for hours. Her husband smiled back at her, planting a light kiss on her forehead as he passed her to change out of his scrub.

"How was your day, Kitten? Quiet, I hope."

"Um..." Yoruichi fumbled for a moment, "...Yes, not a lot going on. I cleaned out the attic and most of the living room today." Kisuke nodded distractedly -- not that Yoruichi had expected such things to interest him-- or even herself, for that matter. She wanted to bring up the matter of his failure to pick his daughter up himself, but decided that it wouldn't do to get into an argument. Not when their marriage had been such smooth sailing for so long. Meanwhile Kisuke was mumbling absently as he flipped briefly through the mail, coming to a stop as he found a brochure for the local community college.

"That's weird," the blonde said quietly as he opened it up, finding a brief overview of the flexible class scheduling inside. Once he'd tired of glancing at the packet he tore it in half and promptly tossed it into the nearby bathroom trashcan. "I keep telling these people to take us off the damn mailing list." Yoruichi spared a glance as the pieces of the brochure fluttered weakly in the air on their path to the wastebasket, but when Kisuke was done overviewing the stack of bills she looked up attentively. "By the way, your parents called me today-- said they were dropping in for a visit the day after tomorrow."

"Oh...That's great," Yoruichi smiled once she'd recovered from her brief look of aggravation. "...I guess I'll have to put in an extra effort on the dining room, then."

"Don't be like that," her husband said reassuringly, wrapping an arm about Yoruichi as he settled into bed in his plain white kimono. "You always worry too much when they come over. I'm sure they'll love whatever you do."

"...You're right, Kisuke," Yoruichi said gratefully-- though she doubted it.

"Now, don't worry Kitten," Kisuke whispered huskily as he flicked off the nearby lamp and sending the whole bedroom into twilight. "...I know a way to help you relax." He heard Yoruichi sigh as he pressed strong lips to her throat, felt her gasp a broad hand slipped beneath her robe to play with one of her nipples while the other slowly freed her of the troublesome clothing. As much as he was already enjoying the wonderfully familiar map of his wife's body, his own arousal doubled when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his back, the slight chill of the gold ring on her finger causing a slightly stronger pressure as she pressed her palms deeper into his skin.

It always occured to Kisuke how lucky he was to have ended up in this marriage-- a pair of beautiful children, a job that challenged him, a wife whose buttons he still seemed to be able to press. As far as he was concerned, life was perfect.

At least, it was until Thursday.

* * *

"Dad!"

At the sound of his son's voice Isshin looked away from his clipboard, surprised to find that instead of a head full of vibrant vermilion hair there was a stack of wide boxes, supported by hands and legs attached to an unseen torso. As the odd sight got closer the body behind the boxes became a little clearer; he was lean and lanky-- would've been scrawny but for the strong build hidden behind a navy sweater and slightly baggy jeans.

"Ah, Ichigo! So you found them all right?"

"It would've been nice if you'd told me where to put them FIRST, ya old fossil!"

"How dare you," the square-jawed man responded with mock indignance, rolling up the left sleeve of his long white coat to reveal that age hadn't yet restricted his vitality. "I don't want to have to disipline you in a place like this but so help me--!"

"Just tell me where I need to go with all this gauze!" Ichigo responded gruffly, in no mood for a sparring match with his father here, of all places. He wasn't about to lose an internship here just because of his old man's eccentricity-- or the mind-numbingly dull entry work. Isshin seemed to calm at once, gesturing to a storage closet a little ways down the hall, grinning as the teen headed off grumbling.

"I see Ichigo's still charming as ever," Kisuke teased as he popped out of his office, his jacket slung over one raised arm. Isshin chuckled at his longtime friend's comment, leaning against the wall as he pretended to list off the things still remaining on his clipboard.

"Well, he's no great charmer, but I'll make a doctor out of the boy yet. We're not all uber-geniuses like you, so... kid's gotta find some way to get experience."

"Well, hopefully not from running supplies up and down floors all day," the blonde responded with a grin. Isshin scratched his head nonchalantly, an eyebrow quirking as he noticed Kisuke's jacket.

"Ah... heading back early tonight?"

"Yeah, got all my appointments done-- not that there were many today, plus Ryuuken's covering for me. I'm gettin' a looong weekend starting tomorrow."

"Lucky bastard," Isshin grumbled. "Well, see you tomorrow-- and tell Ururu that I'll drive Yuzu over on Sunday." Kisuke only waved to show that he'd heard, then turned the corner to the elevator.

* * *

Normally Kisuke didn't mind the rain, but today it was unbearable. Despite the knowledge that his convertible was more than capable of handling the weather, the torrent of cold water pouring down with thunderous abandon succeeded in making him feel a little wary. Even with his wipers on at full speed the blonde could barely make out the stoplight before him, let alone the curb to his right. He let out a sigh, wondering if it ever intended to subside when he caught an odd sort of blur moving past his rain-soaked window along the sidewalk. He didn't pay it any mind at first, focusing on the unchanging red light until he looked over again.

It looked like a person, but then it occured to Kisuke how foolish that notion was, that anyone with a lick of sense would be out in this unpleasantness without so much as an umbrella. The slowly-more discernable form of a human being became clearer as he stared harder, pondering silently to himself as he watched it huddle over, as if struggling to preserve warmth. The light was green now but Kisuke ignored it, following an innate instinct and rolling the window down to see a girl with long ratty black hair, her clothes soaked but otherwise not terribly soiled.

"Excuse me-- ma'am?" She didn't seem to hear but Kisuke endured the typhoon now already soaking him through his open window, leaning out to be heard over the impatient horns blaring behind him. "Ma'am, are you all ri..."

He stopped in mid-sentence as she suddenly collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut, to the ground.

At once Kisuke jumped out of his car, not caring about the line of irritable drivers forming behind him, not bothering to pull up the collar of his coat now that he was out in the downpour. Upon getting closer to the girl he noticed that she was merely very petite, probably much older than he'd thought, but despite the tangled and dirty hair concealing her features she was undoubtedly youthful. Pressing an experimenting hand to the girl's forehead he pulled it away; she was burning up despite the frigid chill of the air and precipitation. Her eyes were a bit unfocused and her mouth was moving slightly as if talking in her sleep, whispered nonsense coming from between her lips.

Though the girl was undoubtedly an urchin Kisuke knew he couldn't leave her here to die of fever-- his Hippocratic oath, coupled with his own strong sense of morality, wouldn't allow it. But with the hospital too far back in the other direction and her forehead seeming to get warmer, there was only one option left to him. Exercising as much care as time would allow, he gathered her surprisingly light weight into his arms, sliding her into the passenger seat once he'd gotten around to the other side of his car. Even in his haste he felt a bit relieved that the other drivers had gotten fed up and passed him.

* * *

Ururu glanced up from her Math homework at the sound of the front door opening and quickly slamming shut, followed by the dull thud of footsteps that could only be her father's. Smiling, leapt of the kitchen stool she was sitting atop and headed to the entryway, her twin pigtails bobbing in time with her as she walked.

"Dad, you're home earl--"

"Ururu! Where's your mother?"

"...She's, um... she's out getting groceries with Jinta..."

"Damnit," Kisuke muttered under his breath. "Go get me a blanket and lay it on the couch, okay?"

It took the girl a second to comprehend what was before her; her father soaked with rain as he stood in the doorway, and cradled in his arms was a girl shuddering silently with hair that hung over Kisuke's arm like a damp towel.

"Ururu, NOW PLEASE!"

At her father's second and barely patient request the nine-year-old jumped, then scurried off to the closet. Once he'd gotten the girl into a fairly secure hold, Kisuke ran into the kitchen and awkwardly grabbed a dishtowel, tossing it into the sink and flipping on the cold water, being careful the whole time not to accidentally knock his charge in the head on the nearby countertop. He didn't look up as surprisingly strong fingers gripped onto his jacket, a mumbled and barely coherent request of what was going on drifting lazily to his ears from her pale and chapped mouth.

"You're fine, understand?" the surgeon said calmly as he reached for the wet towel in the sink, wringing it out as best as his free hand would allow. Pressing the cool cloth to the stranger's forehead, her shaking seemed to subside a bit. "...You're going to be all right."

* * *

"Be careful with that, okay honey?" Yoruichi said patiently as Jinta fumbled with the jug of milk held awkwardly in his hands. "Mommy doesn't want to have to ride the bus again tonight."

"Yeah," her son exclaimed as he finally succeeded in getting a better grip on his bundle, while Yoruichi did her best to keep her twin overflowing grocery bags from spilling onto the front lawn. "That one guy behind us smelled so weird!"

"Now you know that's not nice to say that sort of thing, Jinta."

"Sorry," the boy muttered solemnly in response to his mother's admonishing tone. Looking over the spinach that was slightly blocking her line of sight, the cocoa-toned woman noticed her husband's car, the streaks of water still running down its forest green paneling a marker of the recently passed downpour. A smile passed her lips at the prospect of his actually sharing a dinner with the rest of them, but said nothing.

"Mommy's got her arms full. Can you open the door, Jinta?" the boy nodded as he headed for the threshold, but instead of holding the door simply headed straight through, elliciting a tired sigh from Yoruichi. Pushing it ajar with her shoulder the slender woman entered, carefully slipping off her sandals and grateful that the hem of her kimono hadn't been ruined by the elements.

"Kisuke? Kisuke, I'm glad you're home early-- I bought us some fish for sushi toni... Jinta!" Looking down when she felt her foot suddenly become damp, Yoruichi frowned at the sight of a plastic jug of milk lying on the hardwood, its contents slowly spreading like oil on the slickened surface. "Jinta, I told you to be careful! Jinta--"

Yoruichi's voice didn't suddenly die in her throat because she realized that her son was standing a few feet before her in confusion, staring into the kitchen. It was when she witnessed what he was staring at that made her feel suddenly and utterly disjointed. For a moment she simply stared blankly herself, not even blinking as her husband placed a damp cloth to the forehead of a girl nestled into a futon on the living room floor. After a moment Kisuke got up, but gently whispered for Ururu to make sure the bedridden woman's forehead stayed cool.

"Daddy, who is--?"

"Shh, Jinta," his father said while pressing a finger urgently to his lips. He spoke to Jinta, but his eyes went up to Yoruichi's every now and then as if explaining the situation to her as well. "This lady passed out in the rain, and she's very sick right now. I couldn't take her to work because it was too far, so... She's going to stay here until she gets better, okay?"

"Daddy, she smells funny," Jinta muttered frankly, his face curling into a look of innocent distaste as the smell of the dirty man on the bus seemed to hit him again.

"I know kiddo, but once her fever starts to cool, then I'll take her to the hospital, okay? She should be a little better tomorrow." His son looked doubtful for a moment, but finally nodded his head and turned about in an attempt to salvage what milk remained. Once Jinta was out of earshot, Kisuke stood up to speak to his wife, staring at his 'patient' from the entryway.

"...I know this is a little strange, Kitten," he sighed while leaning slightly against the wall, "...But I couldn't just... are you all right?" Looking down at his wife's visible hand he saw fingernails digging into the bag in her arm so tightly that it was starting to tear. Yoruichi's grip loosened at his inquiry, but when she spoke her voice was surprisingly cold.

"...You brought someone you literally picked up off the street home?" It took Kisuke a moment to think as Yoruichi headed straight into the kitchen, setting down her bags on the counter but not bothering to turn around and look at him. Not once in the time they'd been together had he ever seen her like this. She was always so pleasant and geteel...almost to the point of artificiality.

"Kitten, you would have done the same thing in my position..."

"What? Bring in a... a stranger who could rob us or, God forbid, hurt Ururu or Jinta? Besides, one more dead homeless girl isn't going to be missed by ANYONE." Yoruichi gasped as she felt a strong hand on her wrist suddenly, forcing her to turn around and stare into the face of a rather indignant Kisuke.

"What's wrong with you? I've NEVER heard you say anything like that! Now listen here-- I'm not going to throw out someone who needs medical attention just because it makes YOU uncomfortable!"

It was at that moment that he caught the strangest glint in Yoruichi's eyes as she glanced into the other room toward their uninvited guest. It was there for barely a moment-- an indescribable look of rage melded with an emotion he didn't recognize-- but was gone once Yoruichi turned back to him, her oddly perturbed expression considerably more subdued.

"I know," Yoruichi said quietly, mindful once again of her children's presence. "I just... I don't want anything to happen to them."

"...So you won't give this poor woman a hard time?"

Yoruichi wanted to laugh at the cruel irony of that statement, but instead only stared at the floor, giving a sigh before nodding her reluctant approval. "There's my Kitten again," her husband announced with a smile, pecking her lightly on the forehead, relieved when she smiled but didn't look up from the tatami her eyes were seemingly glued to. "Now, I couldn't find any identification on her, but I figured we could talk to her once she gets fed tomorrow."

Yoruichi said nothing as she began to put a few boxes of cereal away, but even with the young woman's frighteningly long hair and sunken eyes she knew exactly who it was. Her topaz eyes drifted back to the drifter as she shifted in her sleep, and once again her hand involuntarily clenched into a fist that Kisuke didn't see.


	2. Employment

A House of Cards 

Chapter 2: Employment

The first thing that hit the woman when she woke up was that she was warm. At first she didn't recognize it, as she hadn't risen to a single morning in what felt like an eternity without the chill of the morning fog clinging to her, a mess of dew-soaked papers and cardboard the only thing allowing her to retain even an iota of body heat. It took her longer to open her eyes, as she feared it would be just a dream, possibly a hallucination set on by the fever that had been slowly creeping up on her for weeks. Finally daring, she slid them open hesitantly to find, through her unkempt bangs, not the indifferent sky above her but rather a textured ceiling, bright light flooding her vision from a nearby window.

Still uncertain of what to make of the sudden twist of her situation, the girl pulled herself up to sit (on what she'd realized was a soft futon and not rigid concrete), though it took a great deal of effort from her strained and weakened muscles and a sudden wooziness that, while disorienting, was at least milder than her previous state of utter bewilderment.

But all that faded from the urchin's mind as she cast eyes about the beautifully decorated home, pondering on what manner of person would suddenly deliver her from her misery, to find a woman staring down at her, clad in a goldenrod kimono offset with designs of ruby-hued sparrows dancing in imaginary sky. It took only a moment for disorientation to leave the girl as that dark face registered with her; the woman's hair was long enough for a ponytail and her face was a little more slender and her features tightened slightly by age but her identity was unmistakeable. Silver eyes widening in bewilderment, in apprehension, the vagabond began to speak, daring in her disbelief to say her name again.

"...Yor--"

"Kisuke, she's awake."

She stopped in midword, the indifferent glare being levelled upon her almost as stifling as the undertone of utter loathing that her...benefactor had spoken with. It became too much for her to meet the older woman's death stare, even if she did deserve it, so the still-barely-conscious woman looked away at a nearby speck of dust on the otherwise immaculate floor. She was spared the stifling silence when a tall man walked into the room, smiling as his wave of golden hair glinted in the filtered light.

"Ah, so you're alive after all-- thank God." When the only thing that he got in response was a confused stare, the stranger continued. "I'm sorry this is all a little disorienting, but I found you delirious on the street, so... not much I could do. Oh, I see you've met my wife! Yoruichi, could you please invite our guest into the kitchen for breakfast? Jinta and Ururu are already getting a bit antsy." The man headed back into what was apparently the kitchen, followed moments later by his wife, but at the moment all the girl could do was accept that she hadn't imagined the glint of wedding bands on each one's hand.

* * *

"I'm very sorry, but it seems we haven't been properly introduced," Kisuke interjected as their guest forced herself away from the apple she was devouring, her first real food in weeks. "...My name's Urahara Kisuke-- Yoruichi here is my wife (Yoruichi coldly glanced at her coffee, biting her bottom lip slightly as if to say something), and these two are Ururu (the girl with pigtails sitting closest on her left) and Jinta (the redheaded boy didn't even smile in her direction, completely preoccupied with drenching his pancakes in syrup). And your name is...?" The long-haired woman was quiet for a moment, then spoke her name confidently, as if still clinging to whatever scraps of pride she may have kept. 

"...Soi Fon." Yoruichi shot her a glare, but other than that didn't appear to take much interest.

"That's a weird name," Jinta said out of nowhere, tearing a scrap of sugar-soaked pancake from the whole and shoving it down his own throat. "...and your accent's funny. Are you from some other country or so-- OwW!"

"Don't be so rude son," the tall man muttered, his voice hard for a moment as he gave Jinta a sharp flick on the arm, but in less than a second he returned to his jovial self. "If Fon-san doesn't want to tell us where she's from, that's her business."

"Actually...I grew up in Japan, but my parents moved here from China."

"Is that so? I studied for a year abroad in Mongolia--"

"I don't think that we should press our...guest... for too much, Kisuke," Yoruichi said curtly, offering the girl a somewhat forced smile. "After all, you're taking her to the hospital today, correct?"

"Yoruichi!" her husband whispered, anger clear in his voice as he leaned closer to the chocolate-toned beauty. "Um, forgive my wife-- she seems to have forgotten her manners."

"No, I... I understand that she's upset. I wouldn't have let a stranger stay in my home, especially a...homeless woman." Yoruichi's death stare fell to her own pancakes as she absently began cutting them, and though they got smaller with every slice, Urahara's wife had done nothing to suggest she was actually eating them.

"Well, I suppose she's right, even so. As soon as breakfast is over, then I'll drive you to my office."

"Oh no, I couldn't do that-- I've already imposed on your generosity enough as it is," Soi insisted, her face suddenly much less meek and almost prideful.

"Nonsense, I'd be happy to take you. I'll be late if I don't get going anyway." With that, Kisuke promptly swallowed the remainder of his omelette in a blur, then pecked his nearby wife and daughter on the cheek, then used his broad hand to muss Jinta's still unruly hair. Soi hesitated for a moment, but quickly grabbed a piece of buttered toast as she left, not wanting to endure another moment of discomfort from Yoruichi's presence.

* * *

"Well... There doesn't seem to be anything terribly wrong with her," the female doctor contemplated aloud as she pulled the wooden suppressor away from the back of Soi's throat; even so the long-haired woman coughed, flicking her tongue out like a snake as she tried to ignore the taste of balsa that clung to the pink muscle. Kisuke grinned slightly at his charge's reaction but then turned to the older woman, her hair long like Soi's but tied into an unusual braid that hung around her neck like a noose but nonetheless accentuated her air of patient elegance. 

"So there's nothing special she needs, Retsu? No antibiotics or..."

"Rest, mainly," Dr. Unohana said after a moment as she considered her colleague's question, "...and plenty of fluids, of course. But it looks like she'll be okay. Fon-san?"

It took Soi a moment to respond. Even though she was the subject of their discussion, she had felt no desire to pay attention, her thoughts a bit too scattered to focus on anything for long.

"Y-yes?"

"Exactly how long have you been... in transition?" The patient caught the delicate way Retsu had used the euphemism, as though not wanting to dwell on it longer than she had to. Soi couldn't blame her, though she didn't want to be completely honest either.

"...Not long. Three weeks at most, I guess..."

"I'd recommend finding permanent residence. I can't guarantee that you'll be this lucky if your situation gets repeated." Soi nodded, thinking the whole time that Dr. Unohana's recommendation was almost insulting in its obviousness. Of course she couldn't live on the street-- she wouldn't have been in the first place if her landlord hadn't got impatient, if her paychecks hadn't been so slight, if the lock on her apartment door hadn't been changed without her knowledge. Unohana spoke up suddenly, distracting Soi from her musings yet again. "Kisuke, you can put her up for a little while, can't you?"

"Well, that was what I was thinking," the blonde answered calmly, then turned to make eye contact with Soi. "...Just long enough that you can get another job and a new place t--"

"No." When both doctors gave her a puzzled look, the young woman finished, with the same undertone of pride that the Urahara family had heard that morning, though Soi had an entirely different reason for not wanting to stay in his house. "I...I won't scavenge off a stranger. And besides, there are homeless shelters that can--"

"...Only provide you with a few nights straight of food and shelter. Otherwise, you're on your own. But I'm sure you know that."

Soi grimaced at Unohana's statement, disliking the woman on principle but knowing even so that she was right. The three were quiet in the exam room for a little while, the sound of gurneys and orderlies fading in and out as they passed by the wooden hallway door, frosted glass obscuring faces behind it like a veil.

"Well... we'll think of something," Kisuke muttered finally, moments after which he was escorting Soi out of the room.

* * *

Yoruichi clicked her cellular phone shut upon confirming that her children were safe at home, then slid the device between the folds of her obi while checking that she hadn't missed anything while packing her shoulder bag. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she glanced over the freshly-purchased pair of textbooks, not even out of their shrinkwrap; the university map with building locations circled in yellow highlighter (it'd taken her nearly an hour to find her way across the small but densely-packed campus-- she made a mental note to look for shortcuts she could take), a set of pencils and black-ink pens, and a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt that was crushed carelessly below the lot. Yoruichi didn't like the idea of leaving her children alone, much less for something she wasn't even sure she wanted, but since a correspondence course was out of the question she supposed there was no other option. It had been nagging at her for so long that she'd finally given in, but how was she going to disappear for hours at a time, regularly, without raising suspicion? 

She was considering the possibility of overlapping her weekly grocery shopping with classes when the bus lurched to a stop to let out a woman with curly gray hair, and Yoruichi supposed that it was close enough to her own house that she stepped off after the hunched octogenarian. Ten minutes later the dark-skinned woman had pushed open her front door, calling a friendly greeting to Jinta and Ururu as she slipped off her sandals and carefully slid her shoulder bag into a gap between the wall of the nearby coat closet and a particularly heavy box.

"Mommy, where were you?" the redhead asked immediately as his sister brought up the rear, standing on tiptoes to give her mother a swift hug.

"Just looking for a set of clothes for your school pictures, Jinta," Yoruichi responded with a smile in her voice at her second child's audible groan. "...You'll have to come with me next time so I can make sure you can fit into them!"

"But I don't wanna!"

"No need for that tone," his mother scolded, and Jinta reluctantly gave an assenting nod. "Did anyone call while I was out?"

"Grandma did," Ururu answered casually. "She said she'd be here in about an hour--"

Yoruichi nearly cursed aloud as she recalled the self-invitation of her parents to dinner that evening. She was about to ask her daughter when the call had come when it struck her as irrelevant-- it wasn't likely that any meal she devised in what was likely less than half-an-hour would be any more satisfactory to them than if she'd had an entire week to prepare. Thinking quickly and with a swift command to her children to get out of their casual attire, Yoruichi dashed into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of assorted vegetables out of the refrigerator, thankful she'd had the foresight to at least get food earlier in the week than she normally did.

* * *

A little later the front door opened and Yoruichi was in the middle of a hasty attempt at a respectful greeting when she noticed it was Soi Fon (her hair still at elbow length, but at least tied behind her head in a ponytail) followed closely by her husband. She smiled as Kisuke walked forward to plant a kiss on her cheek, but was a little frustrated when the pale woman beside him didn't appear the slightest bit perturbed. 

"Kitten, I wanted to talk to you about our guest," he began immediately, following his wife into the kitchen as she rushed in to check on the rice, heaving a sigh of relief when she found it to be nearly ready.

"Kisuke, I've got to finish dinner before Mother and Father arrive-- I don't care what you do with her, just have her out of here in five minutes."

"well, about that," the blonde plowed away despite the warning tone in Yoruichi's voice, not familiar enough with it to acknowledge its urgency. "...The girl doesn't have anywhere to go and it seems cruel to just dump her back on the streets, so--"

Before Yoruichi could give the angry retort welling up within her, before she could scream for the first time in his presence and tell Kisuke that she wouldn't stand Soi Fon in her house another moment, the doorbell rang. And then, before Yoruichi could gather her thoughts enough to speak, Kisuke called into the entryway where the young woman in question was still standing, uncertain of her fate.

"Fon-san, could you get the door please?"

Seeing no reason to ignore Kisuke's request, Soi reached over to open the front door and immediately stepped back once she'd pushed it open. The old couple standing there was immediately familiar to her, but to her relief they didn't seem to share her memory as well. Even so, they were imposing as ever-- the dark man strode past her, straight-backed and with stern hazel eyes that passed her without concern; his wife seemed a bit more tired than a decade before but only in body, as she moved a bit more deliberately but her beautiful, cold pale face had a few more lines than before, her silken dark hair was flecked with streaks of gray that seemed almost to add to her carefully trained elegance.

"Take this, would you?" she uttered carelessly and suddenly something was flying at Soi; she nearly let go of the door in her surprise but managed to hold it open as she caught the coat with her free left hand. The Chinese woman wondered briefly why Yoruichi's mother had always insisted on furs, though the damp spring weather would only ruin its sheen. The Shihouin matriarch didn't so much as glance at Soi Fon again as she walked straight into the living room, her husband offering a polite smile at their tidied-up grandchildren (though Jinta looked rebellious) and she herself giving a look at the living room that spoke only disdain. As Soi grudgingly took Shihouin-sama's coat to the nearby wooden rack, the woman's daughter walked up to her parents from the kitchen.

"Mother. Father," Yoruichi greeted them solemnly, offering a low bow. "Welcome to our home." From her position, Soi ignored the rather flattering contrast Yoruichi's lavender kimono made against her skin, choosing instead to watch the elder Shihouins. Other than the coats now hanging beside the door, they'd come in traditional robes: Yoruichi's father wore a dark navy color, almost the shade of the sky when it was filled with stars in the dead of night, while her mother's white yukata was as blinding as packed snow in early morning light. Despite the still-muddy conditions, she'd somehow managed to keep the hem of her long-trailing robe from getting dirty on the way from their luxury car to the house. Almost at once, Yoruichi's father spoke, his voice calculated and authoritative.

"The house is starting to look shabby, Yoruichi. And Jinta's hair still won't stay down. And what is that smell?"

"Pepper chicken an--"

"The cheapest cut, no doubt," he interrupted without warning, and his daughter's golden eyes seemed to darken almost imperceptibly as she lowered her head. "I'd think that between me and your husband you'd at least be able to eat like nobility, or buy your children a set of kimono that fit." Yoruichi decided not to tell him that the firey red her son wore and the indigo yukata that Ururu was clad in were, despite being a little tight, their favorites. She'd made efforts to alter them herself, but there simply wasn't enough cloth anymore to spread out. Not that her father would have approved of her sewing for the purpose of extending the life of clothing. Yoruichi's mother gave a slight glance at her husband, who nodded as if giving her permission to speak, which she immediately took advantage of.

"You ARE dusting out the tatami every day, aren't you?" she asked while giving the straw mats that zigzagged across the floor a dubious look.

"Actually, they don't get dirty enough t--" Yoruichi began again, visibly making an effort to keep her tone genteel, but her mother paid her excuses as much mind as the elder Shihouin did.

"I don't believe that's what I asked, Yoruichi. The absolute least that you owe your husband for this lifestyle you so casually occupy is to keep your home spotless. I'd think that I would have been able to teach you that after all this t... There's our son-in-law!"

Soi Fon, the heat in her face rising with every second she'd been listening, was preparing to stomp into the living room when Kisuke walked in, still wearing his teal hospital uniform. Despite his rather informal attire and work-weary appearance, both Shihouins seemed to light up as they moved past their daughter to the surgeon, offering him a bow of their own as he showed his respect first.

"I'm sorry I'm not dressed. I just got off work, and..."

"Well, we understand that you've got a tiring schedule, Kisuke," Yoruichi's father assured him with a nod. "It's more than enough that you're taking such good care of our daughter. I blame myself that she's so stubborn." Kisuke looked for a moment like he wanted to disagree, but he glanced away from his all-but-forgotten wife and gave a rather indulgent smile.

"At least you finally talked some sense into her and hired a servant, even if she is a bit...disheveled," Shihouin's wife answered, casting a vague hand in Soi's direction. "She can focus better on her motherly duties if she's not doing chores all day."

At this statement, Soi blinked and Kisuke cast a quick glance in her direction, an idea taking root in his head which Yoruichi caught onto, and tried to voice immediately.

"That _woman_ (Soi flinched at the venomous undertone Yoruichi had added to the word) is--"

"...A wonderful worker, from what her resume says," Kisuke lied effortlessly; fudging a little with Yoruichi's parents was nothing compared to the split-second decision-making he went through on an almost daily basis at work. "We only hired her today, but she's already shown a lot of initiative. The children have already taken a liking to her." Jinta was about to protest when his sister, cottoning on quickly, made a quick jab at his ribs with her elbow. Wincing slightly in pain, he nodded eagerly enough to satisfy his grandparents.

"Well, then I'm sure we'll be putting her to the test tonight. Bring us some tea," the dark-skinned man said indifferently, snapping his fingers to get Soi's attention. "...And make sure it's hot. I'll send it back if it's not to anyone's liking." After a brief moment of hesitation the Chinese woman sighed, then decided she had no choice and walked into the kitchen. A moment later Yoruichi walked in with her husband while Soi was looking for a kettle, her eyes furious but Kisuke cut her off with an even colder gaze.

"Don't start Kitten," he said simply. "Besides... This could be a good thing. You could use a little help with the kids."

"I can take care of my children perfectly w--"

"Just... until she can get enough to get another place to live, alright? I'll pay her well ON MY OWN, and before you know it she'll be gone. I promise." Yoruichi shook violently considering she was trying to look composed, and while she'd had enough of being interrupted and dismissed for one night, the Urahara woman gave a cleansing sigh and a brief nod of compliance. He kissed her on the cheek and walked back into the living room, leaving Yoruichi alone with their suddenly-declared servant. It took Soi a moment to find the silver kettle and place it under the tap to fill, but as she crossed the tiled floor to retrieve a container with fresh tea leaves, the slightly older woman spoke, her voice cold and direct.

"I want to make this perfectly clear to you. You and I will NOT speak... unless it's in regards to your work here. And if you do not address me formally... I'll have you back on the streets before you can correct yourself. Is that clear?"

Yoruichi's back was to her, and Yoruichi's tone made Soi Fon shiver with dread, but even so she bowed.

"Y...Yes, Yoruichi-sama."

Satisfied, Yoruichi left the kitchen after her husband, never bothering to glance back at the slightly downcast Soi behind her.


	3. Reflections I

_A House of Cards_

_Chapter 3: Reflections I_

_"Sit up, Yoruichi."_

_It took only the slightest emphasis, the merest hint of anger in her mother's calm voice to make the 7-year-old comply. Yoruichi straightened at the table, not even realizing she'd been slouching, and as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment she offered a low bow._

_"I apologize, Mother."_

_Shihouin Kiyoko made a slight movement-- what could have been a nod-- then turned back to her dinner, delicately grasping a clump of rice between a pair of laquer-stained chopsticks. For her part, Yoruichi was simply glad that her father hadn't noticed her gracelessness first-- the idea of those hard brown eyes casting even the slightest degree of disappointment in her... she would have shuddered at the thought if she hadn't been taught not to stay perfectly still at the dinner table. A few moments later, however, the imposing patriarch spoke, an unknown servant swooping down to pick up his just-cleaned plate._

_"...You start the Second Grade tomorrow, correct?" His daughter gave a quick nod; she knew better than to speak more than she had to. "Your mother will take you so that she can meet your teacher, but after that I'll have someone drive you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business with the Shiba family to resolve." Without another word he got up, both women standing as well to respectfully bow him out._

_Yoruichi felt a bubble of anticipation at the mention of the Shibas, who, like them, were a very old and very rich Tokyo family. While Sosuke had worked steadily to become the CEO of Seireitei Incorporated (Yoruichi had no idea what her father did exactly, only that it involved computers; she sometimes wished that she was allowed to speak more frequently), the head of the Shiba clan had made a more precarious rise to fame by playing the stock market. Her father was wary of people like Kaien in business, but his full pockets were more than enough to convince him to join their families by means Yoruichi marrying the son Kaien had named after himself._

_For her part, Yoruichi had no desire to attend school, and her mother was equally disapproving-- but Sosuke had insisted that she at least have a standard education. It would look bad if his daughter was completely ignorant upon coming of age and finally meeting her fiancee. But as far as Yoruichi was concerned, she'd be better off practicing the tea ceremony, on preparing meals neatly and beautifully, to impress her future husband. It was the least she could do, to make up for being born a girl to her parents; to provide a picture of elegance and grace that would reflect on the Shihouin family as well as her mother did._

_

* * *

_

_The girl, already dark as her father but with her mother's silken black hair (though short and a bit untidy) stood beside kimono-clad Kiyoko as she handed the usual packet of instructions to the intimidated-looking instructor, feeling uncomfortable in the horribly ordinary clothes she was in. Glancing about the room with her goldenrod eyes, she found it a little cleaner than her First Grade classroom, but unfortunately, it was also quite a bit more rambunctious-- other children were running about, teasing and giggling and staging mock fights with notebooks for schoolwork. Looking away in annoyance and already feeling exasperated, she looked up at her mother still talking to the teacher, a pillar of beauty and poise and grace in this all-but-uncivilized room._

_Glancing out the open door, she blinked as someone walked by, an arm furiously rubbing at her eyes. It struck Yoruichi as odd, on recollection, that she followed the unfamiliar person and spoke to her, having never once before been the curious or compassionate type._

_"Hey, are you..."_

_The girl (Yoruichi now saw that she WAS a girl) turned abruptly at the sound of Yoruichi's voice, her mop of straight black hair shifting over her shoulders restlessly, a hand quickly wiping her eyes as if ashamed to be seen weeping. She might have been a year younger than the Shihouin, maybe two; when she spoke, however, her voice was surprisingly calm and collected._

_"I'm fine. I just..." the girl was quiet for a moment as she considered something, Yoruichi noticed her dark eyes, obscured by straight-cut bangs, shifting around a bit anxiously. "...You seen a b-backpack anywhere?" When Yoruichi shook her head, the girl continued. "It.. it had a bee on it? All black an' yellow?" The Shihouin heiress shook her head again, and this time noticed a raw red spot on her arm, like she'd been forced to the ground hard. The long-haired girl noticed Yoruichi looking, and quickly covered the spot with her hand, an embarrassed flush coming to her cheeks as she glared at the dark-skinned girl defensively. Before another word could be said Yoruichi felt a sharp tug on her arm, abruptly pulling her away from the stranger and back into her mother's presence._

_"Don't EVER walk away from me like that again," the Japanese woman said fiercely under her breath as she brought her daughter close, casting a hateful glance over at the girl, who left without a second glance. "And didn't you notice that girl was filthy?!"_

_Yoruichi blinked, realizing that she hadn't. She'd been aware of that horrible, pained look on her face, but somehow it hadn't mattered._

_"I... I, uh..." Yoruichi began, but her mother swiftly cut her off._

_"That is EXACTLY the sort of reason these private schools are going down the drain. Never mind profiling; they'll just let in ANYONE who can scrounge up the money... I don't want you around THAT sort, understand?"_

_It only took a moment for Yoruichi to slip easily back into her element, nodding obediently as she followed her elder back into the classroom._

_

* * *

_

_True to her word, Yoruichi didn't so much as give the other girl a second thought-- or at least until lunchtime, when she suddenly noticed the backpack so accurately described by the stranger stashed behind a row of garbage cans. Her first impulse was to ignore it and just continue walking until she got her tray to the nearby table, where a gaggle of 'friends' she'd acquired last year had made a space for her, ready to compliment her clothing and wish fervently they were in her shoes. Instead, on a sudden, indescribable whim, she grabbed the bag and moments later found the long-haired girl again, quietly eating her lunch as she stared down at the carton of milk before her._

_"...Here."_

_The girl looked up, her indescernable eyes widening as she caught sight of Yoruichi, and the bee-shaped bookbag that now lay between them on the table._

_"T-thank you," she muttered uncertainly, looking flushed again as she turned her attention back to the meal at hand. Yoruichi was quiet for a moment, eyes going furtively to the table full of girls waving her over to them, some pushing each other aside to make room or keeping others from taking her seat. "Um... did you wanna sit here?"_

_It was the stranger's quiet voice, full of forced bravery, that made Yoruichi turn to face her again. Yoruichi considered the sudden desire she had to sit by her, because she looked so miserable and lonely that it even managed to affect HER. She worried, for a moment, about what her mother had said, before a sudden, utterly forbidden concept occured to her._

_She didn't HAVE to tell her mother about this. Besides, who would it hurt? The poor girl looked lonely, and Yoruichi knew she'd still be respected after this by everyone else._

_"My name's Yoruichi," the heiress said evenly, taking a seat on the girl's opposite side. "What's yours?"_

_"...Shaolin. Shaolin Fon," the black-haired child answered after a moment's pause._

_

* * *

_

_"Here-- I don't get Eleven."_

_"Are you serious, Yoruichi?! You solve it the exact same way you do problem Nine... you ARE paying attention, aren't you?"_

_As the twelve-year-old Shaolin leaned over and began scribbling furiously on the slightly older girl's paper, mumbling mathematical steps under her breath all the while, Yoruichi had to stifle a bit of a chuckle. The girl had grown a smidge taller but other than that she had changed very little: her straight-cut mop of ebony hair still swayed uniformly as she tilted her head this way and that, and she was still almost uncomfortably quiet. And while Yoruichi had already had a big growth spurt and was starting to develop early, she had been more surprised by the ease with which laughter had grown out of her, as she'd always been taught that it was a horribly trivial and meaningless thing._

_She kept this, like their friendship, a secret from her parents though, and after the first-hand encounter with Yoruichi's mother three years ago, Shaolin had expressed no concerns with that arrangement. Part of Yoruichi had never understood this instinctive urge not to inform the elder Shihouins about Shaolin; apart from her financial situation, she was a perfectly sweet and polite girl, but even so Yoruichi was certain they would not approve._

_Other than that, she was not very different herself-- still otherwise focused on making her parents happy, and the time she didn't spend at Shaolin's home studying was used in preparation of her future as a prim-and-proper lady. And once the Chinese girl had finished explaining the problem for the fiftieth time, Yoruichi got up and put on her coat._

_"I need to get going. Thanks for the help!"_

_"Oh," Shaolin said after a moment, hiding a sudden look of disappointment with incredible ease, "...I thought you didn't need to leave for another few hours..."_

_"Sorry-- I need to get ready. I'm meeting my husband today!" Yoruichi answered enthusiastically. Shaolin smiled as she spoke, though her tone wandered a bit as if she was lost in thought._

_"Oh, right...I forgot."_

_Had Yoruichi been raised to pay attention to the feelings of others, she would have noticed how utterly distraught her friend looked at that moment, would have offered a few words of comfort, or else would have at least sworn that they would still be friends after she got married, empty promise though that would be. But she paid Shaolin only a wave 'farewell' as she clambered up the stairs, hoping her parents would believe that she was busy with her Student Council duties._

_

* * *

_

_Fortunately, Yoruichi was early-- the Shibas hadn't arrived by the time she snuck into her room from the back window, and the midnight-blue kimono was just barely on when her father knocked, beckoning her to the dining room. When she solemly walked out she was met with Kaien at last; he looked a lot like his father but much younger, and admittedly his sharp features and smirking grin made him very handsome, at least. Yoruichi supposed that her parents could have done worse._

_

* * *

_

_That, however, was the last time she saw Kaien alive. His parents were very quiet about how it had happened and why, but the car accident had been terrible enough to attract prefecture-wide attention. And with only a rambunctious daughter and an equally rebellious son left to the Shiba name, Kiyoko and Sosuke had decided it best to not attend the funeral, as there was nothing more to gain from their liason with the noble family. And though it made her feel immensely guilty to think so, Yoruichi could not help but feel a wave of relief wash over her, and to make it worse she wasn't even sure why she felt that way. But it felt strange, that she should be preparing her whole life to marry a boy she didn't even know and now it was never going to happen._

_And when her parents announced hours later, returning late into the night, that they'd come to an agreement with the Kuchiki family now, she did her best to hide the sudden pang of dread-- something she'd never before associated with her intended fate before-- that hit her._

_

* * *

_

_"...Are these..."_

_"Yup," Shaolin grinned as Yoruichi cast aside the wrapping paper emblazoned over and over with 'Happy Birthday' in bold letters to find a small cardboard box, inside of which were rows of misshapen, oddly-proportioned chocolate-chip cookies. "I know that they look weird (the Chinese girl blushed in embarrassment, and Yoruichi smiled as she recalled the first instance the younger of the two had ever done so)... but they're good, really!"_

_"No... I mean, I'm sure they are," Yoruichi corrected herself, "It's just... I'm not sure. My mother said they weren't becoming of a lady." Shaolin chuckled at the slight mocking tone in which her friend had said the last words, especially since Yoruichi didn't seem aware that she'd done so._

_"Mom helped me a... well, a lot, but... come on, just try one." Shaolin held a chocolate-chunk covered treat up even though Yoruichi felt hesitant; what if her parents could smell the chocolate on her when she got home?_

_"...I... I really sh--" Yoruichi never got to say what she 'really should' have done, because in the moment before she closed her mouth Shaolin snuck a cookie between her lips. Forced to chew, the heiress did all she could to remain composed as the sudden clash of texture and sweet and salty and bitter exploded in her mouth, yet for all her efforts she couldn't hold back the sudden 'mmm' that escaped her._

_"Like it?" Shaolin asked, though she seemed to blush a bit, embarrassed and surprised by her own boldness._

_"...Wow," the older of the two managed after she'd recovered from the wonderfully unfamiliar sensation, then began to eat cookies in earnest. The idea that her mother could be so wrong about something-- it shocked her a little bit, but not enough to inhibit her elation. It felt odd, but of even though they were never terribly expensive, none of her birthday gifts could ever hold a candle to the ones she recieved from the Fon girl._

_

* * *

_

_Yoruichi sighed as she waved goodbye to Byakuya, who nodded solemnly as he headed to class. While it did make her feel better that her new betrothed was in the same school as her, and thus she could get to know him a little better, it didn't make her any more comfortable. She hadn't been aware, until Kaien's death had put the prospect of her original marriage to an end, of how much she'd been dreading the event. But why she should feel so ambivalent about it was a mystery even to the Shihouin heiress-- she'd been raised to be ready for that moment, had trained to become a poised and quiet and dutiful bride until she knew it by heart. Why couldn't she brush away this odd pang of fear at the idea now?_

_"H-hi, Yoruichi..."_

_She brightened at once as the sound of a familiar Freshman's voice hit her from behind, and glancing about she found Shaolin walking toward her steadily, on her way to the next class. The short-haired Sophomore walked in-step with her younger friend, feeling a little better now that her best friend was here._

_"Hey, good to see you Shaolin! Which class are you goin' t--"_

_"How are things going with Kuchiki-san?" Yoruichi paused in mid-phrase at the hastily-asked question, trying to get a better look at the Chinese girl's face that was unsuccessful thanks to her inscrutable sheet of shoulder-length ebony locks._

_"Oh... all right, I suppose. Still as quiet and tough as always, but... well, I guess I'll have to get used to it."_

_"Listen, Yoruichi," and at Shaolin's inquisitive tone, Yoruichi paused in the middle of the packed hallway and turned to face the girl head-on, "...I wanted to ask you... are you really h--"_

_Hello there," a honey-laced voice called out as a head full of short red hair appeared out of nowhere and the body it was attached to reached out a hand and pulled Soi's wrist, dragging her slightly in the other direction before Yoruichi acknowledged her._

_"Oh, hi Chizuru!" The Honshou girl cast a slight nod (and a strangely appraising gaze) in Yoruichi's direction before turning to Soi, a rather sly grin on her face._

_"Haven't seen you in a while... avoiding me, eh?" Shaolin smiled oddly at Chizuru, looking away furtively as the spectacled redhead gave her (what Yoruichi assumed was) a friendly hug. She also leaned her face closer to Shaolin's for a fraction of a second before the younger girl pushed her back, whispering something about 'not out here' as she blushed deeper, but Yoruichi had been glancing at a flyer on the nearby wall for the Homecoming dance and hadn't noticed._

_"Shaolin," Yoruichi said upon turning back and finding things no different than before she'd looked away, "...I was wondering if I could come over tonight? Those Shakespeare translations are really getting complicated..."_

_"Oh... Sorry Yoruichi, I can't! Chizuru and I are... well, I promised her we'd see this movie. But I can help you tomorrow, okay?" Though Shaolin did look terribly sorry, Yoruichi couldn't help feeling a little disappointed, even after she'd nodded her acceptance and the two girls had left for Biology._

_She and Shaolin had been best friends for so long, and though she knew it wasn't right to stop the Chinese girl from making other friends, Yoruichi couldn't help but feel a little neglected. Since Chizuru had approached Shaolin they'd been nearly inseperable, and plans that Yoruichi had made with the younger girl weeks before often got pushed to the wayside as they... well, she supposed the only word for it was 'hung out,' she didn't know anything about what Shaolin and the redhead did together other than they preferred to be alone._

_But they were getting older anyway, and though Yoruichi's marriage to Byakuya had been pushed back until they were both 18, there would still come a point at which she would have to leave Shaolin-- and her old life-- behind. Maybe it was better that it was happening now, Yoruichi thought, though it certainly didn't feel quite that way._

_

* * *

_

_"Shaolin?"_

_Yoruichi glanced around the locker room, wondering if the girl was still inside. She'd finally managed to arrange a get-together with the girl again, and groaned a little as she pulled the bookcase with the heavy Math text higher up her shoulder. Shaolin had promised to help her with Geometry but now the girl was a good fifteen minutes late, and Yoruichi was starting to worry that if they took to long studying then her mother would get suspicious of where she was. As Yoruichi listened, the sound of a running shower echoed throughout the room, drifting lazily over from around the corner of the opposite end of the room._

_The chocolate-skinned girl walked hastily over to the showers, pausing as she passed the pile of Soi's clothes. It took her a moment to realize that mixed in with her friend's Karate gi was a school uniform; it struck her as odd because Shaolin never wore her uniform to Karate practice, or at least on the instances that she'd been able to watch. And indeed, on approaching she caught the faintest and most unintelligible, but unmistakable, snatches of a voice other than the Fon girl's._

_Yoruichi felt a sudden, almost primal dread grip her for an instant as she hesitated at the tile wall that separated the locker room from the showers, but ignored it as she decided not to knock, then peered her head around to the first stall, where flecks of water spitting onto the outer tile revealed her friend's location._

_It took her a long time to realize she was staring._

_Shaolin was pinned to the inner wall of the shower, and blocking her from view was a bare body with ruby hair she only belatedly realized was Chizuru. The Chinese girl, despite being in a position where she could have seen Yoruichi watching them in blank shock, remained oblivious to a presence beyond her lover: her eyes were shut tight as Chizuru greedily kissed and bit at the side of her pale face while her left hand lazily caressed one of Shaolin's slight breasts, her right was hidden between the two of them; Shaolin had a leg wrapped around Chizuru at the waist and the hand massaging the back of the hungry-eyed upperclassman's head encouraged Chizuru onward, accompanied by the endless string of quiet, pleasured moans coming from between her flushed, swollen lips._

_And then Yoruichi made a noise, or Shaolin opened her eyes (Yoruichi wasn't sure)-- but in the next instance the Chinese girl gasped her name while Chizuru turned about, horror on the face of the former while the latter merely looked as if she'd been inconvenienced. Yoruichi blinked and turned away, disbelieving, wanting to run away but at the same instant she felt something unknown and undisturbed growl in protest within her, a strange, angry and choking sort of deprivation._

_After a moment Shaolin ran out to Yoruichi wrapped in a towel and looking ashamed; the Shihouin heiress only caught a glimpse of her friend before the strange rush of agitated hunger swelled in her again and she looked away, not daring to let her eyes linger. Shaolin seemed to stutter for a moment before she finally spoke in a tiny voice._

_"I... Oh God... Y-Yoruichi, listen, this is... well... I'm sorry, I meant to tell you, but... I... I didn't want you to--"_

_"It's... It's fine." Yoruichi was a bit startled by how forced and strangled the words came out of her, at the overwhelming urge to turn around at look at what she knew was a barely covered, very wet Shaolin, but she kept her back to the girl. It wouldn't be proper to look at her...like that, she knew, but even so the urge to do it was strangely overwhelming. "H-how long have... you two been... uh..."_

_"...Almost five months," the Fon girl answered sheepishly. "Yoruichi, I wanted to tell YOU more than anyone, but... I didn't think you would... understand." Yoruichi wanted to ask why, but then she remembered. Her parents. As if they'd need another excuse to hate a girl like Shaolin. At that moment Chizuru stepped out, leaning impatiently against the side of the wall, not bothering to cover herself. Shaolin's eyes distractedly drifted to her girlfriend's body for a moment, and suddenly Yoruichi felt an immense, red-hot loathing of Chizuru, though she didn't know her well and it was gone as quickly as it had been intense._

_"Yoruichi... I know it's a lot to ask," Shaolin said imploringly, forcing Yoruichi to turn and look her in the eye, "...b-but you can't tell anyone, okay? I'm just... I'm not ready for people to know yet. Please?" Shaolin added the plea when Yoruichi hesitated, unaware that Yoruichi was staring at her eyes, suddenly aware that they were grey, as bright and tulmultuous as rain-heavy stormclouds. She realized in a moment of odd clairty that she'd never noticed before now. Yoruichi realized she must have nodded without realizing it, because then Shaolin was giving her a grateful smile, squeezing her arm gently in thanks before turning back to her girlfriend and gathering up her clothes. Yoruichi stood there for a moment, eyes rebelliously following her friend, until Chizuru said something in a whisper with a devilish grin that made Shaolin blush, and then Yoruichi turned around, leaving the way she'd come, still feeling as if something strange had broken within her._


End file.
